


The Vast Black Night

by gothiccheezit



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:49:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothiccheezit/pseuds/gothiccheezit
Summary: This is the prologue.





	1. Children No More

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prologue.

"Cadet Lyall, please step forward."

The young trill did as he was told, stepping forth from the line.

The man in front of him read from a padd, scanning it silently. "You asked for a position on Deep Space 9?"

The boy nodded, keeping his hands folded behind his back.

The commander smiled. "Congratulations, you got the position you wanted. Report to the suttlebay to be transported to Earth Space dock to wait for transport to DS9."

Lyall nodded, stepping back into the line as the commander continued going down the line. When he was finished, the cadets were dismissed to go to their specified locations. As soon as they stepped foot out the door, they were children no more.


	2. Of Those Who Need and Those Who Want

Ensign Lyall of Trill was a man of emotion, though his expression of it was quite violent in some ways. When he was young, his parents told him that he would never be able to join with a symbiont. When he was eighteen, he was told that people with his 'condition' should not be in Starfleet. He had done the latter, and he would do the former, as soon as the year was over he would submit a request to undergo host training. He could wait.

On the subject of Lyall of Trill, there is much to speak. For example, presently he was in the shop of the Cardassian tailor, Garak, arguing over clothing.

"It's a turtleneck, Garak, not a strangle-me-sweater. The neck needs to be loose enough to breathe, and tight enough so that it doesn't flop all over the place."

"Well you'll have to forgive me, Ensign, but I was basing it off of my physiology so it seemed to me as if it was meant to choke the person who wore it."

Lyall folded his arms, trying to conceal a smile. "Garak, you silly man. No wonder it felt like it was trying to suffocate me. You thought the design accounted for neck scales, and I don't have neck scales."

"A pity," Garak retorted, smirking. "It would be such an amazing thing for you. I can't imagine not having the sensitivity of mine."

The ensign chuckled. "Alright, alright. It's not like it needs to fit me properly anyways. It's actually for my sister. She's virtually the same size as I am."

Garak made a look near surprise or something of the like. "Indeed. Well, you do seem to like your waistcoats and button-ups far too much to like something as easy to wear as a sweater."

Lyall grinned. "Ah, but Garak. You know me far too well." He looked to a timekeeping device he kept on his wrist. "Oh, I'm afraid I have to go. My duty shift starts in about five minutes. Being a science officer is no picnic."

Garak let out a short laugh. "Perhaps next time we can discuss your peculiar taste in clothing."

The Trill scoffed, walking out of the shop and across the promenade to a turbolift.

 

"Good afternoon, Major," the ensign greeted as he stepped out of the turbolift. "Lieutenant Dax, good to see you."

Major Kira looked ready to retaliate to a future comment as she replied with a curt ''hello," making her an even easier target, meanwhile Dax smiled, nodding to Lyall as he stepped down the stairs to his station.

Lyall got to work immediately, trying to ignore everyone else as much as possible unless the commander came in. He didn't, and Lyall's shift seemed to go quicker for it, despite a forming headache. When his shift ended, it was almost to the point of unbearable, so he did the logical thing and went to the infirmary. He only made it to the promenade before collapsing.

 

"-all, wake up. Lyall." Someone was shaking him.

Lyall grabbed the person's wrist, eyes flying open, and pushed them back.

Doctor Bashir made an 'I surrender' gesture, stepping back carefully. "Calm down, breathe. You're in the infirmary."

Lyall noticed that he was hyperventilating at that moment, and tried to calm his breathing. "Right. Okay. Can you get Garak?"

For all their arguing, Lyall and Garak were close like family. Lyall even spent some nights on Garak's couch.

The doctor nodded, turning to one of the nurses to tell her to go get Garak before moving closer to Lyall. "Are you alright now?"

Lyall shook his head, pulling himself up to sit with his knees to his chest and arms curled tightly around them.

The doctor nodded. "I'm surprised you and your parents never got treatment for your condition Lyall. There is a way to lessen your anxiety over being touched."

Lyall waved him off. "Don't lecture me like everyone else. The gift is worth the punishment."

Doctor Bashir nodded, smiling softly. A few moments later, Garak walked in holding a large bundle.

Lyall relaxed slightly, eying the bundle with familiarity. "Five percent wool, five percent nylon, ninety percent cotton. Weight of 2.268 kilograms and six feet by ten feet. Grey-blue on one side, dark red on the other."

Garak smiled. "Yes, I thought you would want it back now that it's fixed. You really should be careful where you bring personal items. You've been off ever since it ripped."

Lyall held his hands out as Garak handed it to him, immediately wrapping the blanket around himself.

Bashir watched, fascinated at how the blanket seemed to soothe the Trill even more. "Thank you for coming, Garak. If you could, I'd like to speak to you alone for a moment."

Garak smiled. "By all means, doctor."

The two men stepped outside to speak for a few minutes and then returned. Garak stepped towards Lyall, holding an arm out. "The doctor says you are free to go, but he believes that you should stay with me for a few days, and not push yourself."

The Trill nodded, unwrapping himself and folding up the blanket. He was checked out and allowed to leave with Garak.

 

"I've changed my quarters a bit since you were last here, I really do hope it doesn't bother you too terribly much," the Cardassian man hummed, opening the door.

As they stepped in, Lyall hugged his blanket tight to his chest, watching Garak place the bag they had collected from the boy's own quarters by the couch. He looked around the room, noting the desk, the table, and the couch were all the same. Something was a bit different, but he couldn't place a finger on it, so he decided not to try. The temperature was as warm as ever, and the lights quite dim. Perfect, Lyall was overstimulated anyways. No reason to have blaring lights in his eyes.

Garak walked over to the replicator, gesturing to the table. "What would you like to eat, Lyall?"

The trill sat at the table, putting his blanket in his lap. He thought for a moment, "Stuffed crust pizza with pepperoni and olives."

Garak made a face, but he had long accepted the Trill's taste for Earth food, so he asked the replicator for two slices of stuffed crust pizza with pepperoni and olives and a bowl of some weird Cardassian soup Lyall couldn't pronounce the name of.

They ate quietly, talking only about art and music, not work. Lyall recommended a few Trill songs, Garak suggested painting something that represented a Cardassian novel, and when the meal was over, they went each to their respective sleeping areas. All the while, Lyall kept his blanket close, reveling in the feeling of the weight of the blanket and the hum of the station.


End file.
